


Pay Attention (Or Life Will Pass You By)

by Dangereuse



Series: Tomarry D&D-athon [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: And Style, Inside out!AU, Joy's the only one who still has hair, M/M, Sadness Hurts the Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:29:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23516215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dangereuse/pseuds/Dangereuse
Summary: Voldemort's Fear has been driving for a very long time.ORInside Out!AU
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort
Series: Tomarry D&D-athon [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1692079
Comments: 5
Kudos: 119





	Pay Attention (Or Life Will Pass You By)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [duplicity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/duplicity/gifts).



Fear is screaming again, and Joy amuses himself by watching the wrinkles in the back of his neck make faces. He hasn’t been by the control board in ages, refusing to get involved in the ridiculous elbowing matches between Fear and the tiny and malformed Disgust. He’s pretending to reorganize his small number of golden orbs, but really he’s remembering how sweet the forest of Albania smelled, when Voldemort had nose enough to scent it. He’s not required most days. He can’t remember the last time he even spoke up, but to mock the others for their lack of hair.

He doesn’t even tune in when Anger works his way to the control board, knocking Disgust from his tiny cradle to the floor. Disgust hisses at him, spindly arms flailing, but he knows no one will pick him up and thus confines himself to obscenities in Parseltongue.

“He is _what_?” Anger bellows, and he and Fear jostle each other for primacy. Disgust hisses again as he gets kicked by Fear’s bare foot, but he simply crawls away from the battle ground. “How dare that filth steal a piece of Lord Voldemort’s soul! How dare he stand before us!”

“If you kill him, Nagini will be the last! You saw into his mind! A piece of soul will be lost!” Fear screeches, clawed fingers scratching up the too pale skin of Anger’s forearm, making waxy runnels in his flesh. Anger doesn’t feel it, his body too inhuman, until he _does_ , turning on Fear with a snarl and a vicious backhand.

But Fear has been the leader for too long, and he retaliates with a brutal wave of wandless magic, sending Anger to the floor in the grips of the Cruciatus. Anger curses and twitches.

“We can’t keep him,” hisses out Disgust, from the floor. “What a revolting container. Better to lose it than suffer an unfit vessel.” Joy is growing bored again, tuning it out, turning back to the golden sunshine of Albania. He tried for a few moments after the cauldron, but Anger and Disgust had too much pent up energy from the horrible bodiless days none of them have even filed, so desperate not to remember. 

“We should keep him.” The voice is thready and lost. It’s Sadness, who they all shun. He’s too small, too vulnerable, too weak. He never grew. Joy can’t even look at the horrible uniform from the orphanage that he still wears, voluntarily. “He’d make good company.” 

Joy snorts, and it’s followed by the rest of them. Well, just Anger, who, despite the waxy blurred quality of his face, still can. The other two make small disgusted noises in the backs of their throats.

“A vote, then,” Anger hisses, turning on Joy. “Two to two. Shall we keep this malformed piece of splintered soul or not?” It’s obvious what he’s expecting. Joy doesn’t usually involve himself in their drama, but he does love to spite Fear and Sadness when he can be bothered. 

Joy stretches long limbs out as he stands, enjoying the drama. He shakes out his perfectly tailored robes, even though they’re already immaculate, and ignores the chorus of groans and depreciations in Parseltongue. He can’t help if he’s the last of them to have any style.

He strides over to the control panel, and deliberately elbows his way to the front, peering through Voldemort’s eyes for the first time in so long.

There’s the boy, Harry Potter, kneeling on the forest floor before them. He’s bleeding from his nose, and still twitching from Anger’s Cruciatus. He’s almost surprised to see him look…actually grown. He idly remembers their nemesis as more…childlike, but to be fair, he cannot be called upon to remember all of Fear and Anger’s ranting.

Potter is sort of pretty under all that dirt, Joy supposes, considering him with that long buried streak of hedonism. Nice face, good cheekbones. But what is most startling, are his green eyes, glowing a green so deep it reminds him of the Killing Curse. Joy looks at him, and in that moment, he knows that Potter’s Fear isn’t driving. He is definitely scared, yes, a little sad, of course, and a whole lot angry, but Joy instinctively knows who is running the control board behind Potter’s glowing eyes.

He’s _happy_ to sacrifice himself for his friends. Crumpled here, at Voldemort’s feet, Potter’s _Joy_ is driving. Joy feels his own mouth pop open.

“Keep him,” Joy orders, and for the first time in a long time, the rest of Voldemort’s emotions do as he says.


End file.
